


This is Home

by smile_it_will_get_better



Series: Umbrella Academy Oneshots [4]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brother-Sister Relationships, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Identity, Gender Issues, Gender neutral Klaus Hargreeves, Good Sister Allison Hargreeves, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I just love Klaus and Allison okay?, Light Angst, Protective Siblings, Sibling Bonding, cross dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 02:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smile_it_will_get_better/pseuds/smile_it_will_get_better
Summary: Klaus never felt at home in his skin....Klaus is struggling with confusion concerning his gender identity and dysphoria and Allison comes along and helps him discover a side of himself he never knew existed.





	This is Home

**Author's Note:**

> This plot bunny had been sitting in my head for a while and I just had to write it down. Mostly based off of my own struggles with identity and stuff like that. I really hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> Also, I'm not using they/them pronouns in this story because I headcanon Klaus of normally using he/him pronouns although he really doesn't care about what set he uses.

Klaus never felt at home in his skin.

It started when he was around six years old, first forced into the god-awful schoolboy outfit their father insists on. 

He threw a ruckus that day, six years old and already a drama queen. He didn’t like the uniform, and the idea of wearing the stifling outfit for the rest of his life made him sweat, made his skin crawl.

His father shuts him up pretty quickly but as Klaus looks into the mirror later that day, with tear tracks and a handprint on his cheek, he decides that this wouldn’t be his life. He can't live like that. 

Over the years he found subtle ways of breaking the rule about uniforms. First it was rolling up his sleeve when his father told him not to. Then wearing all different types of pins attached to the collar. Sometimes he would refuse to do up the jacket, or he would doodle colorful little stars onto his white socks. But he refused to simply just wear the outfit. 

Still, something felt wrong. 

He was never satisfied with the small “fuck you" the changes to his wardrobe screamed. He had managed to convince himself that he hated the uniform because he didn’t like his dad telling him what to wear. 

For years he blamed the nauseating feeling looking at the outfit sometimes gave him on the urge to rebel and act out against his father. Told himself that he hated it because it reminded him of the asshole he called a father. 

But he couldn't anymore. He had to stop lying to himself. 

He stood in front of his full-length mirror eight years later as a thirteen-year-old and he hated it. 

He stared at his reflection in distaste, at the shorts that cut off right above the knees, the socks, the shirt and jacket and the tie. He hated all of it and he had no clue why. 

It feels like the outfit was smothering him, restricting him and holding him back. He constantly felt wrong, in and out of the outfit and he hated it. 

But it wasn’t the outfit he felt weird in, because yeah some days he didn’t mind it. What truly felt weird, what truly made his skin crawl was something that he couldn’t place. Something he didn't quite get. It’s the same feeling of discomfort and confusion as he got when the lady at the donut shop called him a “sweet young man". 

He didn’t know much about the outside world, he was pretty much in the dark about all social norms, but what he did know was that there was two acceptable things to be. 

Girl and boy. 

Everyone said that Klaus was a boy. He had all the parts, so why not? 

He tried to tell himself that all the time. He would repeat it while sitting in bed, tears stinging his eyes because everything just felt wrong to him. _"You're a boy. You're a boy. You're a boy."_ But that just didn’t feel right to him. 

It made his skin squirm, made something inside his chest seize and his throat would go dry and everything would feel weird. It made him feel like he was wearing a phantom skin, someone else’s body that he didn’t belong in.

It didn’t make sense to him. Nothing really made sense to him. Why did boys have to have short hair and girls long? Why did the boys have to wear shorts when the girls got to wear skirts? Why were boys allowed the roughhouse but the girls had to be weak and wimpy? Why were the girls only allowed to play with the dolls and the boys had to play with the cars? 

It all seemed stupid to Klaus. It was stupid how father would yell at him for crossing his legs because “only girls sit like that". It was stupid the fact that he was told not to tilt his head or stand a certain way or talk in a certain tone all because he was a _boy_. 

And what was even more stupid was the fact that he was staring into the mirror and he absolutely hated what he saw. 

He hated the way the uniform looked on him. Hated the way his limbs were so scrawny and thin, instead of big and strong like Luther or Diego. 

He hated the way his face was so hard and sharp instead of soft and welcoming. 

He hated the way that he looked into the mirror and he didn’t feel like himself. Didn’t feel like it was the real Klaus he was staring at. 

He hated the way he looked. Hated the way he felt. Hated every piece of him that was confusing and weird and he just didn’t get it. 

He felt the angry sting of tears fill his eyes again and that somehow made everything feel worse because _”Boys don’t cry Number Four.”_

Well screw that. Screw this all. 

Klaus was tired of feeling like a stranger in his own body. He was tired of looking into the mirror and feel like he was looking at a lie. He was tired of his father and siblings pushing him to be more manly and act like a boy when all he wanted to be was Klaus. 

The anger bubbled up inside of him and without thinking his fist flew out and hit the mirror, not breaking it but sending it clashing to the ground with a loud bang. 

He crumpled to the ground along with it, the anger rushing out of him as quickly as it came because what was he even angry with? Himself? 

He preferred the anger, because now all he felt was numb. 

“Klaus?” A soft voice called from behind him, and he didn’t bother to turn to look at Allison as she walked into the room. 

“Hey Ally.” He replied with a sniffle and a forced smile. 

He liked Allison, he really did. She was always there for him, if not a little to wrapped up in her own self. She always distracted him after Dad was hard on him, she let him stay in her room after a bad nightmare and talked him through his panic attacks. 

But he didn’t want to see her now. Because he looked at her in her skirt and pretty makeup on her face and he wanted. He wanted to be able to look like that, to wear the things she did. But boys couldn't do that sort of stuff, it was only for girls. 

He didn’t want to be comforted, he wanted to sit here and either cry, or go find some weed, or figure this shit out. 

“Are you okay?” Allison asked softly, walking closer and sitting on the ground next to him. He cursed her for her soft voice and eyes that made him want to tell her everything. She had that way with people, something that made you trust her, made you like her. 

He wished he had that. People just thought he was an idiot. 

“Peachy.” He mumbled, not wanting to find the energy to formulate some witty remark that would make her laugh and forget about all of this. 

“Right, and that’s why your crying and have knocked your mirror over and are currently sitting on the floor in despair?” She said sarcastically. 

“Yup.” He laughed. “Sounds about right.” 

“Come on Klaus, talk to me.” She pushed, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his arm and squeezing gently. “I'm your sis, you can tell me anything.” 

It was easy to forget how much Allison tried to fill the big sister role. How despite sometimes being too wrapped in herself she still tried her best to reach out and offer support when needed. It was easy to label her as uncaring and selfish, but that was so rarely the case. 

“I don’t feel like myself.” He blurted out before his rational side told him that he should keep this to himself. “I look into the mirror and I don’t feel like me. Like Klaus. It's like staring at a stranger and everything feels off.” 

He dropped off his rant, looking away from Allison and what would be disappointment in her eyes. 

“Can I try something?” She asked quietly, and he looked up at her in surprise, she was staring at him with a sad half smile, but the glint in her eyes told him she knew something he didn’t. 

“I guess.” He muttered, not resisting as she dragged him to his feet and down the hall. 

The two of them stumbled through the door and into Allison’s room, Allison slamming the door behind them. She practically shoved Klaus down onto her bed, skipping over to her vanity and rummaging around. 

“What are you doing?” Klaus asked curiously, picking his feet up from off the ground and curling them under himself. His father always yelled at him for sitting this way, but Allison never seemed to mind. 

“We-" Allison started finally pulling something from the drawer and turning around with a bright smile on her face. “-are going to paint your nails.” 

Klaus blinked, staring up at the little bottles of polish she was holding and a small smile graced his lips. Allison always had her nails painted in the prettiest colors, and the idea of him having that too already made him feel a bit better. 

They spent the next twenty minutes painting his nails in the random colors and then wiping them off to try new ones. They chatted idly, Allison’s record player playing softly in the background. The swirling confusion and uncertainty had faded from inside Klaus's gut, leaving him feeling hollowed out but content.

Eventually they settled on a deep red color, all his nails shining in the low light. 

“Perfect.” Allison said, patting his cheek and standing up. “Now sit really still, this is going to feel weird. 

Allison was back at her vanity, pulling out a bunch of pallets and brushed and she tossed them onto the bed beside them. Klaus looked down at them, reading labels and swaying around to the song playing. 

“Makeup?” He asked carefully. “I don’t think you want me doing that Ally, I'll poke your eye out.” He demonstrated by grabbing a brush and poking the air in front of him.

“You’re not doing my makeup you idiot.” She grumbled, grabbing the brush from his hand and tapping his nose with it. “I'm doing yours.”

“Is that a good idea?” He asked, ignoring the small jolt of _something_ inside his chest at the thought. 

“When is anything we do a good idea.” Allison murmured under her breath, forcing him to close his eyes as she brushed something over his eye lid. It tickled, and he fought not to move. 

He liked moving, felt like he had to always be in motion, always shifting and fidgeting. It made him feel more alive, because the dead rarely moved, they just stood there, staring at him for hours on end. 

Allison suddenly poked him in the eye with an incredibly sharp stick and he jumped back, his eyes flying open. 

“Sorry.” She said with a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand but not looking remorseful at all. 

“You wound me.” He gasp, trying to make the grin on her face grow. “Betrayed by my own sister!” He cried, flopping down on the bed dramatically. 

Allison giggled, “I just poked you with the eyeliner, sit up you doof so I can finish.” 

Klaus groaned, but sat up for her, sitting as still as he could as she finished up his makeup. It was actually pretty simple, and Klaus didn’t really get what the fuss about it was. 

Allison then ran to her closet, dragging Klaus along with her. 

“This will look so nice on you.” Allison said with a grin, shoving what appeared to be one of her skirts and a nice white crop top at him. 

“Your letting me wear your clothes?” He asked, slightly dumbfounded. 

He ignored the way he always used to stare at Allison’s outfits with jealousy, skirts just looked so comfortable and pretty. But he couldn’t wear one because he was stuck with his stupid schoolboy shorts. 

“If your ruin them you have to do all my chores for a month.” She told him seriously. “Now go change! I won't look.” She said, turning around and covering her eyes. 

Klaus snorted slightly, shucking off his stupid uniform as quick as he could, pulling on the outfit Allison picked out. The skirt was a bit big on him, he had unnaturally skinny hips, and the top was a bit too small for his wider frame, but was pretty loose around his chest and otherwise it seemed to fit pretty well. 

“What do you think?” He asked, twirling around and marvelling in the way the fabric ripped around him, fanning out as he spun. 

“You look fabulous, are you ready for the big reveal?” Allison said, grabbing him and covering his eyes with her hands. They stumbled around the room, laughing and stumbling blindly. 

They stopped in front of the mirror Allison had in the corner of the room, and she started counting down. 

“Three, two one!” She cried, removing her hands and stepping back. 

His heart stuttered. 

The first thing he saw was the outfit, the skirt falling just below his knees in a simple but stylish way, the black striking against his pale skin. The shirt was wonderful too, cutting off below his ribcage and for the first time in a while he felt like he could properly breath, it wasn’t smothering him like his other outfit did.

The outfit was a perfect compliment, black and white, showing off his lean body while remaining comfortable. He couldn’t help but feel that this was right. 

The next thing he noticed was the simple makeup on his face. It was simply and hastily done, his eyelids colored a pale peach and black eyeliner outlined his eyes, making them pop and seem brighter. Paired with the outfit and the nails, well he didn’t know how to describe how he was feeling. 

_There he was._

He felt the tears well up in his eyes, and Allison was suddenly there, wrapping her arms around him as he buried his head in her shoulder and sobbed. 

He finally felt like himself.

God, the suffocating feeling under his skin was finally lifted, making him feel light and free. Sure, something was still missing, something was still out of place, but this felt natural. This felt right. 

“Thank you.” He whispered into Allison’s shoulder, and he never knew how grateful a person could be until now. 

Allison pulled back, standing behind him and leaning her head on his shoulder, both of them staring into the mirror. 

“Hey Klaus,” She muttered, her eyes flickering nervously. “Are-are you trans?” 

Klaus thought for a moment. “Are you asking if I feel like I’m a girl?” He asked, biting his lip as Allison shook her head yes. 

“I-I don’t know.” He whispered, frustrated tears filling up his eyes. “All of this is stupid, why do I have to be a boy? Or a girl? Why can’t I-“ 

He cut himself off, staring into the mirror at his reflection, at the person in it stared back, their face painted in slight makeup, the clothes hanging off of their limbs in a way that seemed natural, right. 

“Why can’t I just be Klaus?” He whispered, turning to look at Allison, who looked back with curious eyes. 

“You can.” She said simply. “If you don’t want to be a girl or a boy, you can just be Klaus. It suits you.” She leaned forwards and planted a kiss on his cheek, standing up again and dragging him to the bed where they both sat down. 

“Do you want to go by they/them pronouns?” She asked carefully, and Klaus furrowed his brow. 

“I don’t really care. Call me whatever I guess. He, her, they, I don’t think I really care.” He told her, reaching down to play with the soft material of the skirt. “Imagine what dad would think if he walked in on me like this.” He laughed, shuddering at the thought. 

“Who cares about dad, he’s not here.” Allison said confidently, and Klaus blinked. Good little Number Three rarely talked bad about their father, choosing to instead hate him in silence but worship him in every other way. “What’s important right now is this moment, you and me sitting here with no care in the world.”

Klaus grinned, grabbing Allison’s arm and dragging them both down until they were laying beside each other, a tangle of limbs and giggling voices. They settled down, and Allison wrapped her arms around him again. 

“How did you know?” He asked her after a moment of silence. “That this would be good for me.” He clarified. Allison shrugged. 

“I know you Klaus.” She muttered, her hand running through his hair. He leaned into the touch, not used to the amount of affection she was showing him. “You tend to hide yourself behind that stupid façade of jokes and inappropriate humor, but I know you Klaus. Even if you don’t know yourself, I’ll help you find that.”

Klaus only nodded, too lost for words to respond. Instead they just lay there, content to stare at the ceiling and exist together. 

“I hate my powers sometimes.” Allison blurted out, and Klaus looked up at her, waiting for her to continue. “Sure, it's awesome most of the time. But there’s moments when I tell someone to do something and I realize I can do literally anything. I could tell you to stab yourself in the eye and you wouldn’t even hesitate. It scares me what I can do.” She rambled, and Klaus rubbed her arm soothingly. 

“I hate my powers too.” He whispered. “For different reasons of course, but I found that there’s only one thing you can tell yourself. It doesn’t matter that your powers can be scary and horrible, if you’re a good person, then who cares? Your fear is valid and it’s a good thing to be afraid of it. It shows your still human. You just have to work to make sure you’re in control of them and not the other way around.” 

Allison was silent for a moment, staring at him. “When did you get so smart?” She said at last. 

“Excuse me?” He gasped in fake outrage. “I have always been absolutely brilliant!” 

“Klaus.” She laughed, hitting his shoulder lightly. 

“Easily the smartest out of the whole group.” He continued on and Allison smacked him a bit harder on the shoulder. “Okay fine, Ben told me that one night and I stole it from him.” He admitted, and Allison laughed even more, the both of them dissolving into giggles. 

They gained control of themselves a few minutes later, relaxing back into the bed again. 

“I say we have about ten minutes before either Luther or Diego bursts in and demands to know what we are doing.” Klaus muttered, staring at the door in distaste. 

“I give Luther five minutes.” She replied, finally sitting up. “You want to take off all that stuff and get changed?” She asked. 

“Nope.” He replied, following her as she sat up. “But I have to because I’d rather not get flayed alive by daddy dearest.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” She replied, but they both knew she was lying. He decided not to call her out on it.

They quickly cleaned him up, wiping the makeup off and he changed back into the stifling clothes he had to wear. 

“I going to go find and bug Diego.” Klaus said when they were done and Allison nodded. 

“Hey, do you want to do this again next week? I have some even cuter outfits that will look amazing on you.” She offered, her eyes bright with hope. 

Klaus grinned, the idea making his heart soar in his chest. 

“It’s a date.” He said with a quick kiss to her cheek before he ran out the door, waving his newly manicured hand back at her. 

Every week for the next four years Klaus would go to Allison’s room and they would sit on her bed, gossiping and playing dress up, content in their own little bubble. His nails would be painted and eventually he found the courage to start wearing his makeup outside of their room. His siblings pretty much all accepted him, but none of them could compare to the feeling of belonging that he felt whenever him and Allison were alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment to tell me what you think, like it, love it, hate it, either way I want to know!! Thank yall for reading you guys are the best.


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